Here is the next chap, sorry about the shortness . I have nearly finished
the chappie after this one, so I should update a bit quicker. Thank you for
all of your nice reviews!
Disclaimer; I don't own noting, just Daeron, Sara, and hopefully Legolam once I have taken over the world! But not at the mo, too much work to do, too many cats to feed.
I have re-done this chap, and sorted out the Arwen problem (no, I haven't killed her, but she wasn't born then. Thanx to Radiion-hobbitwarrior for pointing that one out! Also, any mentions of Arwen in the future, ignore them. I have lost the fifth chapter, so I can't edit it. As soon as I find it I will change it for y'all!)
Enjoy!
Chapter Four; Journey
Daeron kicked the sides of his white mare again in hope to speed her up. According to the king and prince, no time was to be spared. Sara needed to get to Rivendell, and fast.
But the his horse was already going at its fastest. It was not fast enough. This poor girl couldn't be helped in Mirkwood, and their healers had great knowledge. He shuddered at the thought of what could make a child so ill. What had happened back there? Legolas had told him very little.
Daeron scanned the plain that they were in for danger. It had been a quiet journey. Too quiet. But something today alerted his senses, making him skim every surface that they were to ride through.
Then he glanced down at Sara to make sure that she was OK. She was sitting in front of him and he had his arms around her so that he held on to her as well as the reins. Her eyes were closed as though she was sleeping but her raspy breaths told him otherwise.
They had already passed the marsh, with great difficulty. That is where Sara became even more ill. After that she couldn't walk. He needed to either carry her, or help to keep her on the horse.
The forest that they were to ride through was two miles away. Daeron could see it by now.
It crept closer into view. It would take them about ten minutes to get there at the speed they were going at.
They made it to the forest's edge by sunrise. They were to travel by night and sleep by day. They were safer to sleep in the day, for who knows what creatures there were lurking behind every shadow? Daeron had learnt this lesson long ago.
The mare slowed to a trot at Daeron's command and they made their way quietly through the thicket; the only sound they made was the crunching of the fallen leaves when the horse stepped on them.
Daeron's heart gave him another warning. Something was approaching. And fast. He paused, his elfish ears picking up with an unrivalled sensitivity every sound around them.
He searched for a place that they could conceal themselves in. If something was coming, then they needed to hide. But where would the horse hide? Normally, Daeron would have already taken to the trees without thought. But leaving a horse on the ground will make the enemy know that they were there. It's bright white would attract the eyes of the attackers. They would be caught for certain.
He did the next thing he could think of. Spurring the horse again, they set off into a gallop. All he could do was hope that they wouldn't find him and Sara.
That was when he heard the screech of the enemy. They had heard him. Commanding the horse to go faster, he realised that if they were caught, he was outnumbered.
Daeron listened to the rapid, heavy footfalls behind him.
Something whistled past his head. An arrow. He noted that the end of it had black feathers. Orcs. How he hated them.
He suddenly became confused as to why they were attacking in the day. And as to why they where so set on perusing him and Sara.
At the most, they were a less than day's travel away from Rivendell. But would they be able make it in time? What were they doing wandering so close to Rivendell? Surely the guards would've seen them by now?
He risked a glance over his shoulder. He saw that there were only about ten of them. Should he risk it and shoot at them with his arrows? He was skilled; he knew he could take them if he got lucky.
He brought his horse to a halt and turned it around so it faced the orcs. Bravely, he took and arrow and loaded his bow, his long, muscular arms trained for this very moment. Pulling the string back and aiming, he let it fly and watched it as it hit an orc in the forehead.
The troop all at once began to charge towards the elf and the girl that they were to follow.
Daeron picked over half of them off neatly with his arrows alone. He reached to grab another arrow, yet the stroke of feathers he should have felt was gone. He was out of arrows. Cursing at his bad luck, Daeron spurred his horse and turned it around with a sharp pull on the glistening reins of the white mare. With a potent neigh, the horse leaped on its heels and galloped into the thicker brush behind it. Daeron mastered the ride magnificently, guiding the steed skilfully through the brambles. Arrows whirred past his face, often much too close for comfort.
"Damn them!" he thought, his teeth gritting cruelly as his steed leapt through the bushes and into a clearing, "Why are they so intent on catching us?"
The wind rushed at his face and he rode, leaning forward as far as he could to allow the mane a streamlined shape. This would make for extra speed. Before him, he could see Sara, her face paler than ever, as ill as death, and he grit himself with unwavering determination to get her to Rivendell. The horse's hooves pounded in his ears, and then the heavy thud of the muddy ground beneath him ceased, and he found he was facing a small river.
With a cry, Daeron charged forwards into the river. He underestimated the flow of current and found it was swifter and heavier than he had hoped. Cursing again under his breath, he spurred the horse again, whispering hushed words of Elfish in its ear to try and hurry it up. The horse struggled, heaving against the massive, crumbling rapids that thrashed about them. All the while, Daeron kept a brave, tight arm about Sara.
The horse scrambled up onto the slippery bank just as Daeron became aware of the orcs reaching the crossing behind them. He could hear their evil laughter, could smell that rancid odour of stale meat and sweat. His nose wrinkled as he turned to face them. He grinned. They could never get across that river on foot.
He closed his eyes in relief, and began to turn the horse away. Just as he did so, he felt a thrust in the centre of his chest, a sharp, hot sting that blazed about his torso with the speed of a falcon. He gasped and looked down at his chest, where a slight dribble of blood oozed out from the arrow wound. He had not known that the orc party had contained archers. The globules slithered down his chest and his world began to spin.
"On, Esthelin, keep going . . ." he muttered to the stallion, still clinging tightly to the oblivious girl in front of him. He felt gravity shift beneath him as the horse moved forwards, the orc's laughter dying in his ears as they gradually moved further away.
His head bobbed as the horse moved, and his vision was drenched with swirling pools of light and mystery. He blinked, trying to keep focused on the task ahead. He was not aware that the horse passed through the gates of Rivendell.
A voice at his side triggered his failing senses and he looked down from his seat on the steed to see an elf maiden looking up at him worriedly. Then he saw the face of Volinde, a loyal companion he had known and loved since childhood. Her beautiful eyes gazed up at him and he could see the worry that shone in their depths. A slight grin curved the corner of his handsome mouth as he spoke.
"We are. . . at . . . Rivendell? Good . . . I hope the child is alright . . ."
His voice trailed weakly at the end of his sentence, and darkness began to thread its way into his vision. With once final glance at Volinde, he smiled again. All was black before he hit the ground.
Awww, poor brave little elfy poo. Isn't he sweet? Well, duh! I made him. . . as I said, nxt chap is nearly written, but you know what will make me type faster, so press that Review button and give me your comments on this chap.
Review! Please?
Disclaimer; I don't own noting, just Daeron, Sara, and hopefully Legolam once I have taken over the world! But not at the mo, too much work to do, too many cats to feed.
I have re-done this chap, and sorted out the Arwen problem (no, I haven't killed her, but she wasn't born then. Thanx to Radiion-hobbitwarrior for pointing that one out! Also, any mentions of Arwen in the future, ignore them. I have lost the fifth chapter, so I can't edit it. As soon as I find it I will change it for y'all!)
Enjoy!
Chapter Four; Journey
Daeron kicked the sides of his white mare again in hope to speed her up. According to the king and prince, no time was to be spared. Sara needed to get to Rivendell, and fast.
But the his horse was already going at its fastest. It was not fast enough. This poor girl couldn't be helped in Mirkwood, and their healers had great knowledge. He shuddered at the thought of what could make a child so ill. What had happened back there? Legolas had told him very little.
Daeron scanned the plain that they were in for danger. It had been a quiet journey. Too quiet. But something today alerted his senses, making him skim every surface that they were to ride through.
Then he glanced down at Sara to make sure that she was OK. She was sitting in front of him and he had his arms around her so that he held on to her as well as the reins. Her eyes were closed as though she was sleeping but her raspy breaths told him otherwise.
They had already passed the marsh, with great difficulty. That is where Sara became even more ill. After that she couldn't walk. He needed to either carry her, or help to keep her on the horse.
The forest that they were to ride through was two miles away. Daeron could see it by now.
It crept closer into view. It would take them about ten minutes to get there at the speed they were going at.
They made it to the forest's edge by sunrise. They were to travel by night and sleep by day. They were safer to sleep in the day, for who knows what creatures there were lurking behind every shadow? Daeron had learnt this lesson long ago.
The mare slowed to a trot at Daeron's command and they made their way quietly through the thicket; the only sound they made was the crunching of the fallen leaves when the horse stepped on them.
Daeron's heart gave him another warning. Something was approaching. And fast. He paused, his elfish ears picking up with an unrivalled sensitivity every sound around them.
He searched for a place that they could conceal themselves in. If something was coming, then they needed to hide. But where would the horse hide? Normally, Daeron would have already taken to the trees without thought. But leaving a horse on the ground will make the enemy know that they were there. It's bright white would attract the eyes of the attackers. They would be caught for certain.
He did the next thing he could think of. Spurring the horse again, they set off into a gallop. All he could do was hope that they wouldn't find him and Sara.
That was when he heard the screech of the enemy. They had heard him. Commanding the horse to go faster, he realised that if they were caught, he was outnumbered.
Daeron listened to the rapid, heavy footfalls behind him.
Something whistled past his head. An arrow. He noted that the end of it had black feathers. Orcs. How he hated them.
He suddenly became confused as to why they were attacking in the day. And as to why they where so set on perusing him and Sara.
At the most, they were a less than day's travel away from Rivendell. But would they be able make it in time? What were they doing wandering so close to Rivendell? Surely the guards would've seen them by now?
He risked a glance over his shoulder. He saw that there were only about ten of them. Should he risk it and shoot at them with his arrows? He was skilled; he knew he could take them if he got lucky.
He brought his horse to a halt and turned it around so it faced the orcs. Bravely, he took and arrow and loaded his bow, his long, muscular arms trained for this very moment. Pulling the string back and aiming, he let it fly and watched it as it hit an orc in the forehead.
The troop all at once began to charge towards the elf and the girl that they were to follow.
Daeron picked over half of them off neatly with his arrows alone. He reached to grab another arrow, yet the stroke of feathers he should have felt was gone. He was out of arrows. Cursing at his bad luck, Daeron spurred his horse and turned it around with a sharp pull on the glistening reins of the white mare. With a potent neigh, the horse leaped on its heels and galloped into the thicker brush behind it. Daeron mastered the ride magnificently, guiding the steed skilfully through the brambles. Arrows whirred past his face, often much too close for comfort.
"Damn them!" he thought, his teeth gritting cruelly as his steed leapt through the bushes and into a clearing, "Why are they so intent on catching us?"
The wind rushed at his face and he rode, leaning forward as far as he could to allow the mane a streamlined shape. This would make for extra speed. Before him, he could see Sara, her face paler than ever, as ill as death, and he grit himself with unwavering determination to get her to Rivendell. The horse's hooves pounded in his ears, and then the heavy thud of the muddy ground beneath him ceased, and he found he was facing a small river.
With a cry, Daeron charged forwards into the river. He underestimated the flow of current and found it was swifter and heavier than he had hoped. Cursing again under his breath, he spurred the horse again, whispering hushed words of Elfish in its ear to try and hurry it up. The horse struggled, heaving against the massive, crumbling rapids that thrashed about them. All the while, Daeron kept a brave, tight arm about Sara.
The horse scrambled up onto the slippery bank just as Daeron became aware of the orcs reaching the crossing behind them. He could hear their evil laughter, could smell that rancid odour of stale meat and sweat. His nose wrinkled as he turned to face them. He grinned. They could never get across that river on foot.
He closed his eyes in relief, and began to turn the horse away. Just as he did so, he felt a thrust in the centre of his chest, a sharp, hot sting that blazed about his torso with the speed of a falcon. He gasped and looked down at his chest, where a slight dribble of blood oozed out from the arrow wound. He had not known that the orc party had contained archers. The globules slithered down his chest and his world began to spin.
"On, Esthelin, keep going . . ." he muttered to the stallion, still clinging tightly to the oblivious girl in front of him. He felt gravity shift beneath him as the horse moved forwards, the orc's laughter dying in his ears as they gradually moved further away.
His head bobbed as the horse moved, and his vision was drenched with swirling pools of light and mystery. He blinked, trying to keep focused on the task ahead. He was not aware that the horse passed through the gates of Rivendell.
A voice at his side triggered his failing senses and he looked down from his seat on the steed to see an elf maiden looking up at him worriedly. Then he saw the face of Volinde, a loyal companion he had known and loved since childhood. Her beautiful eyes gazed up at him and he could see the worry that shone in their depths. A slight grin curved the corner of his handsome mouth as he spoke.
"We are. . . at . . . Rivendell? Good . . . I hope the child is alright . . ."
His voice trailed weakly at the end of his sentence, and darkness began to thread its way into his vision. With once final glance at Volinde, he smiled again. All was black before he hit the ground.
Awww, poor brave little elfy poo. Isn't he sweet? Well, duh! I made him. . . as I said, nxt chap is nearly written, but you know what will make me type faster, so press that Review button and give me your comments on this chap.
Review! Please?